


After

by asocialconstruct



Series: Basic [9]
Category: Starfighter (Comic)
Genre: Domesticity, M/M, Mpreg, post partum depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-11
Updated: 2012-10-15
Packaged: 2017-11-16 01:52:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 14,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/534165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asocialconstruct/pseuds/asocialconstruct
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Continuation of Small Favors, but separated if you want to pretend Cain and Abel just adopted a baby instead of the mpreg ever happening.  Lots domesticity, more messy breakup feelings, family drama.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Also, big thank you to elisetales who helped me figure out what Deimos' role in this was.

And then it was over; his whole adult life just done, Fleet’s budget slashed at the end of the war, no reason to keep disposable useless trash like him on the payroll even if Abel got moved into a soft position in a colonial liaison office.  Because Abel had done something with his life, and all Cain had ever done was get knocked up.  So there was nothing to do but let Abel arrange everything, follow him out to pick up the baby from his parents’, like she’d just been a box of old clothes stored there, and let Abel natter on about how wonderful everything would be once they were all settled together.

And of course Abel got them a place near Keeler, near Keeler and fucking Encke, and Cain had to make like it was the most fucking perfect thing in the world because Abel was so fucking happy about it.  So he let himself be dragged out to dinner and drinks with them, slouching in his chair and drinking too much because he didn’t have anything else to do besides feel Encke’s eyes on him and watch Abel flirt with Keeler.  Split pitchers of beer with Encke because it was that or drink fucking cosmos and white wine with Keeler and Abel.

He only fucked Encke once, if fucking was Cain on his knees in the bathroom of a bar one night after they’d all had too many drinks, trying to swallow Encke as fast and quiet as possible so Keeler and Abel wouldn’t get suspicious.  Then getting left there hard and pissed off and drunk because the fucker just walked out and left him after, and wouldn’t fucking look him in the eye when they all said good night.  Bad enough, and on top of it Cain had to spend the night on the couch because Abel didn’t want to get fucked rough after they sent the babysitter home.

Abel was careful about the rest, so fucking careful about everything, making sure Cain had his fucking pin money in a separate account and a babysitter to call if he needed to go out and get blind drunk in the middle of the day.  No reason to get a job with how much Abel pulled down, and no jobs to get anyway because it was the fucking colonies and he’d left because he’d never had a chance of finding a job there in the first place.  

Mostly he just walked during the day, though, carrying the baby in her little backpack the only time he could hold her without making her cry.  Walked and walked, in circles over and over through the decent parts of town, not really looking at anything or thinking about anything, killing the time until Abel came home.  Just killing time until he could make dinner and listen to Abel go on about what he was doing with his life, and wonder what he was doing with his.

Deimos called sometimes, gone back home to take care of his dad now that the cancer was looking terminal.  Abel sent him pictures twice a week even when they didn’t do anything, even though Cain told him to stop bothering Deimos with it and nagging Deimos to bring his father to visit for the holidays.  Deimos had enough shit going on with his dad, he didn’t need Abel texting him all day and calling every week to talk about the baby or whatever the fuck they talked about.  Cain kicked his feet up across Abel’s lap and dozed with the baby on his chest while Abel talked Deimos’ ear off.

“No, he’s good,” Abel said into the phone, tracing his fingers over Cain’s ankle, just under the cuff of his pants, smiling faintly.  “Do you want to—“ Abel started, but Cain shook his head.  Not interested in telling Deimos himself that he still didn’t have a job and was just wasting his life.  

Not interested in hearing about how bad this round of chemo was going and how much weight Deimos’ father had lost since it started.  Cain had never liked the old bastard, never thought Deimos’ dad cared for him at all, but he’d rather remember the tough old fucker like he was at the end of basic, when he took them out and drank them both under the table to celebrate.   Deimos could tell it to Abel, who didn’t know him any other way, and couldn’t remember that the old bastard had been healthy once.

“Sorry, he’s busy with the baby,” Abel lied, frowning at Cain.  “They’ve been at the park the last few days, he took some good pictures of her I can send you.  Tell your father we said thank you for the little sweater he made, she’s not quite big enough for it yet, but she will be when the weather starts getting cold.”  

Cain frowned, didn’t want Abel thinking he could make them all a happy little family with the baby in the middle of it when Abel was only setting himself up to get hurt worse when the tough old fucker didn’t make it to the holidays.  Abel wanted a family so badly that he was looking for it from Deimos when he couldn’t have it from Cain.  Didn’t understand that more family just meant more bad shit waiting to happen.  Cain called his sister every couple of months and that was good enough for both of them.

“Did your dad have a good time at my friend’s art opening I told you about?  Oh.  That’s too bad.  You should call Logos sometime and see if he wants to have coffee, though, he’s been single for a while and I think you’d get along.  He’s very sweet.”  Cain scowled over the baby at Abel.  Deimos didn’t need to have Abel fuck around his feelings with everything going on with his dad and Abel didn’t need to be playing Yente.

The baby woke up and started crying then, and Cain carried her out to the kitchen to get a bottle.  Didn’t need to hear Abel and Deimos flirting over the phone anyway.  As much as Abel flirted with Keeler, at least he knew they’d never fucked.  Encke would never have stood for it, but Abel and Deimos Cain had never been sure about, spending too much time together when he’d been reassigned, fat and useless.  

Cain warmed up the bottle in a pan of water, bouncing the baby to keep her quiet while it came up to temperature.  She’d sleep tonight, worn out by their walks now that the weather was starting to go cold.  At least he could do something right, get the baby to sleep through the night.  Something for Abel to call his mother and brag about, even if Abel fussed about whether the baby stayed warm enough and nagged him for smoking when he took her out.

She took the bottle when it was warm, falling asleep in his lap before she finished it.  Cain leaned back in the kitchen chair, just looking at her and still shocked he hadn’t broken her yet.  Could have sat there staring at her forever until Abel came to stand in the doorway and smile at them, and Cain let Abel put them both to bed.  Not where he’d thought things would end up, but he’d never thought he’d make it out of basic in the first place.  Never thought Abel would want so much from him, or that he’d even want to try to give Abel what he wanted.  Wished he had anything Abel wanted, but he’d try in the mean time.


	2. Chapter 2

He came home to the sound of Abel laughing.  He’d meant it to be a short walk to get another pack of smokes without Abel there to bitch at him for it, but he’d ended up smoking at the playground and wondering how everyone else made it look so easy.  His phone rang and rang in his pocket, Abel calling to nag him about coming home for dinner, and he turned it off so he could fucking think.  

But now he was late, barely in time to help put the baby to bed if he was lucky, or have Abel scold him about being selfish and irresponsible if he wasn’t.

His stomach knotted at the smell of coffee, the good kind, the real kind, the kind Abel only put out for guests since it was so fucking hard to get out here.  Didn’t really matter who it was, he could put up with any of Abel’s friends for a real cup of coffee.  He’d put up with fucking Keeler and their flirting for a real cup of coffee.  

Abel smiled back at him as he stepped into the living room, and at first Cain thought the other person was someone Abel worked with, from the colonial side of the installation.  Dark hair with a little grey, sharp suit, holding the baby on one knee.  But then the fucker looked back at him with a smile and his heart stopped, staring back at his father, neat dark hair and pale skin.  Not a drop of tysganblood in him, just gypsy brats with a gypsy whore, holding onto Cain’s little dark haired baby that looked too much like his sister, like he had any fucking right to touch either of them.

“Cain, I tried calling but you didn’t pick up,” Abel fussed.  “Why didn’t you tell me your father lived so close?”  Cain made himself take another step towards them, not about to be chased out of his own house, not with the fucker holding his baby.

And they all looked so fucking normal, Cain’s smug bastard father bouncing the baby on his knee.  Abel poured another cup of coffee for them, one for Cain and one for his father, and Cain wanted to tell him to not waste it because the asshole wouldn’t be staying, but he couldn’t get the words out, his throat too dry.

“If I’d known what a happy little family you had,” Cain’s father said, watching him, “I’d have visited sooner.”

And then Cain knew, knew exactly where he’d fucked up, taking the baby out walking in a neighborhood too good for them, and he’d made eye contact with someone who’d looked too familiar, an older version of himself sitting at a cafe in a suit.  Cain had turned around immediately, practically running, but he hadn’t seen the fucker when he looked back and he’d thought he’d just spooked himself.  But nothing in his life went right anymore, and here the bastard was.

“Cain, come sit down, we were looking at pictures.  Why didn’t you ever show me any of these?  You look exactly the same, you’re so sour,” Abel said, smiling down at the tablet on the table.  Like it was the most fucking normal thing in the world.  “I hope Natasha doesn’t get your scowl.”

Cain ground his jaw and pulled a chair between them.  Too close to his father, but he couldn’t hide behind Abel.  He sat, trying to figure out how to end this, making himself not abandon Abel and the baby there alone like he’d abandoned his sister.  Abel put a hand on his knee, steadying him, and Cain hadn’t realized he’d been shaking until then.

Abel chewed his lip and stood up, his hand brushing Cain’s shoulder.  “I’ll—um.  I should go start dinner.  I’ll be right back.”

And then it was just them.  They watched each other, the first time face to face in more than ten years.  “What the fuck are you doing here?” Cain said finally.  It was the most he could manage, his heart beating too fast in his chest with his father holding the baby, like he knew what he was doing, like Cain never would.  He knew if he tried to grab her away, she’d start crying, and Abel would be upset, and it would just prove everyone right that he shouldn’t have been in Abel’s happy little family.

“Really, Sacha, can’t a man meet his granddaughter?”

“We’re not family anymore, you made sure of that.”

“It was your mother that pulled things apart.  She always was so selfish, I suppose it’s not much surprise you took after her.  Ethan tells me you haven’t worked since the little addition,” he said conversationally, and Cain would have shaken Abel if he’d been standing right there.

Cain ground his jaw, his whole body aching with how much he wanted to gut the bastard, but the fucker had probably planned that out, coming into his house and using his baby as a shield, a little insurance for his good behavior, just like he’d always used Cain and his sister against their mother.  “Been busy being a father.  Not that you would know a fucking thing about that,” Cain said, hating himself for trying to justify anything to the asshole.

“Well.  You never were going to amount to much anyway, so why not get knocked up and let someone else pay your rent.  I’m sure your mother would be proud.”

“You pushed her down the stairs.  She was pregnant and you pushed her down the fucking stairs.”

The fucker had the _gall_ to look down at his baby, the only thing Cain had ever done right, and he fucking _smiled_.  “I’m sure that’s the way your sister told it,” he said, bouncing the baby.  She cooed, too little to know better, twisting her hands on the lapels of his suit, and Cain’s hands shook with how badly he needed to grab her back.

“Get the fuck out of my house.”

“I think I’ll wait to see what your, hmm, is ‘sugar daddy’ the right word, or is that too crude?  I think I’ll wait to see what he says, since it seems to be his house.  We were getting to know each other so well before you came home to throw your little tantrum.”

“Get the _fuck_ out of my _goddamn_ house,” Cain said, before he realized that he’d stood and knocked the coffee cups over, spilling everything over the table.  The coffee set clattered to the floor, spilling cream and sugar everywhere, and he knew it would be a bitch to clean between the floorboards but he didn’t fucking care, the smug bastard smirking at him and coffee dripping slowly to the floor, all the expense of it wasted.

Abel came to stand in the doorway of the kitchen, twisting a teatowel in his hands.  “Cain, what are you—we were going to have dinner—“

“He’s leaving.  You’re fucking leaving and you’re never fucking coming back,” Cain snapped as the asshole started to say something.

There was a tense silence, and Cain didn’t know what he’d be able do if the fucker didn’t just leave.  He’d never been able to stand up to him, not then, not now.

But then his father stood, holding out the baby and Cain snatched her from him, their hands brushing.  The asshole didn’t look at him, though, just smiled past him at Abel.  “It was very nice to meet you, Ethan.  We’ll have to talk again when Sacha’s learned some manners.”

Cain’s father gave him a knowing smile, watching him clutch the baby against his chest, Cain hiding behind her now like he’d always hidden behind his sister Natasha.  The asshole gathered up his tablet and his coat, and then Abel was seeing him to the front door, making apologies and promises to get together another time.

Cain stood there next to the dripping table and pressed his nose into the baby’s soft hair, trying to shut out both of them, trying to shut out everything but her.  He stood there shaking with relief until Abel closed the door and rounded on him.

“My god, Cain, do you always have to be so _selfish_?” Abel snapped.  “We can’t just do this on our own.  What did he do, tell you to quit smoking?”

“Shut the fuck up, Abel, you don’t know a goddamn thing about it.”  Cain held the baby too tight against him, frowning down at her soft hair, trying to tell himself that she was fine.  Trying to tell himself that he’d ever be able to protect her from anything even though he’d never been able to protect anyone.

Abel came toward them too fast and Cain barely kept himself from shying away from the look on Abel’s face, too much like his father’s.  Abel frowned at him, reaching for the baby.  “Would you just calm down and give me the baby, you’re being ridiculous—“

“What the fuck did you think you were doing letting him in?” Cain snapped back.  “You don’t fucking know him and you just let him in my goddamn house?”

“He’s your father, he called, what the hell was I supposed to do?  Everything was going fine until you showed up and ruined it.  Why can’t you just be normal like your father?  It’s my house and my family too, you can’t be so selfish about everything.  Give her to me before you hurt her,” Abel snapped, reaching for her again as Cain hunched his shoulders and tried to turn away from him.

“Don’t touch her, Abel, don’t you _fucking_ touch her.”

“What’s _wrong_ with you, just calm down—“

He slapped Abel before he realized what he’d done.  The baby started to cry in the sudden silence and everything twisted out of place.  

Abel stared at him with big eyes, his hand pressed to his darkening cheek and Cain was seven again, sobbing in the corner because he was too scared and too small to protect anyone or to keep it from happening again, his mother’s face still bruised from the last time.

He pushed the baby into Abel’s arms and grabbed his coat on his way out the door, before he could do anything else.


	3. Chapter 3

“What the fuck do you want?” Encke said, looking pissed.

He practically jumped Encke as soon as the door opened, throwing himself at him even though Encke just stood there barefooted with a flannel shirt hanging open.  He managed to make Encke kiss him once, hard, not long enough, before the asshole pushed him away with a glare.  “What the _fuck_ , Cain?  Are you drunk?  You can’t just show up here.”

“Not drunk, I just, fuck, need a place to stay tonight.  Fucked things up with Abel,” Cain said.  

Encke looked him up and down, but finally stepped out of the way.  “You can crash here, but it’ll be on the couch, Keeler’s not into that.  Come have a beer.”

Cain frowned.  He’d hoped to catch Encke for a quick hard fuck before Keeler made it back from work.  Needed another reason to hate himself so he wouldn’t have to think about the look on Abel’s face, or his mother’s, but he followed Encke back to their kitchen because he’d always done what Encke told him.

Keeler looked up from the table, still wearing his uniform jacket and pen hovering over a crossword puzzle in the bright clean light, even though it was a fucking Friday night.  “Oh!  I didn’t realize we had plans, is Abel—“

Cain shook his head as Encke buttoned his shirt and went to the fridge for more beer.  “Just me,” Cain said, and he could tell Keeler and Encke exchanged looks over his head as he eased himself down into a chair.

Encke pried the beers open, setting one down for Keeler and one for Cain, who slouched in his chair, their neat little kitchen everything he’d never managed to hold onto with Abel or Encke or anyone else.

Keeler broke the awkward silence with a delicate cough.  “Abel sent pictures of the baby earlier, is your father having a good visit?”

Cain didn’t have the strength to glare at him, just sunk further into his chair and drank his beer.

“Your father,” Encke said, because he knew exactly what that meant.  “He still there?” Encke asked, because he knew Cain was a fucking coward and would have run if he could have.  Probably knew exactly why Cain had shown up and how he’d fucked things up with Abel too.

Cain scowled down at the table, all the way back down to Fifty and getting a scolding.  “No, fuck, he left, but Abel let him in for coffee and everything.”

Keeler’s phone lit up then, buzzing on the table and he frowned down at it.  Picked it up and excused himself, leaving them alone for the first time since Cain had been on his knees at the bar.

Encke leaned back in his chair, taking a drink of his beer and watching Cain, looking straight through him, seeing all of him like he always had.  “You could have just told Abel about him, and then you wouldn’t have it all crash down on you like this,” Encke said.  “You could try just being honest for once in your life, Fifty.”

“Fuck you,” Cain mumbled, not much strength in it.

Keeler’s voice carried from the other room, even though Cain tried not to listen.  “ _Hi Abel.  Yes, he’s here, do you want to talk—no, he seems fine.  Is everything alright?_ ”

“Nice set up you got for yourself, Eight,” Cain said, wishing he’d just gone out and gotten wasted instead of coming over here looking for something Encke would never have given him even when things were good between them.  “No fucking problems in your life.  Sounds like you got everything you ever fucking wanted.”

Encke sighed.  “It was basic.  Things were different.”

“Why was it different, Eight?  Because you give a fuck about Keeler?”  Cain kept himself from saying the rest of it, even both of them could hear it hanging there.

Keeler came back then, and put the phone down, looking back and forth at them glaring at each other.  “Have you had dinner, Cain?” Keeler asked brightly, breaking the silence.  

Cain let them feed him, poking at the leftovers and smoking in the kitchen with Encke after.  He didn’t ask what else Abel had said, letting Keeler go through the new pictures of the baby on his phone so they’d have something to talk about while they waited for Abel to show up.

Keeler answered the door finally, and Cain heard Natasha before Abel’s soft murmur, her little noises carrying to the kitchen when she caught sight of Keeler.  The three of them came back to the kitchen, the baby’s sticky little hands in Keeler’s hair and Abel frowning at Cain.  He stubbed out his cigarette as soon as he caught Abel’s look, even though he still had half of it left.  Encke watched him do it, and Cain didn’t have to look at him to know what Encke thought of him, whipped and put in line by his navigator.

There was a tense silence as they all tried to arrange themselves in the little kitchen, but Encke stood up first.  Cain stared at him, afraid Encke was just going to leave him there alone with Abel.

But it was even worse, Encke hooking Abel out of the kitchen by the arm, leaving him there alone with Keeler and the baby.  They both stared after Encke, never in the same room together before without Encke or Abel.

“Natasha’s getting very big, isn’t she?” Keeler asked brightly, sitting down to bounce her on his lap, and Cain hated him more then than he ever had.  If she didn’t have dark hair, she could have been Keeler’s and Abel could have had his perfect little family without Cain to fuck it up.

“Did you, um, did you . . .”  Keeler trailed off, chewing his lip.  Cain glared at him, not interested in thinking about what Encke or Abel had told Keeler about him, especially not interested in making conversation with him.  He could put up with Keeler when all he had to do was sit there and listen to him flirt with Abel, but not tonight, not with Keeler holding the baby like she belonged to him.

They sat there in silence after that, until Encke and Abel came back to the kitchen, Abel chewing his lip too.“You two are staying here tonight,” Encke said to Abel, or maybe Cain.  “Keeler, we should get to bed,” he added, and Keeler stood up too quickly, obviously relieved.

“I’ll make up the couch for you,” Keeler said to Abel, handing him the baby and giving Abel a quick peck on the cheek.  Cain glared, but Abel just blushed and Encke didn’t say anything.  So there was nothing to do but sit there in silence until Keeler came back with another blanket and Encke and Keeler left the three of them there.

“Do you want to stay here tonight?” Abel asked, the first thing they’d said to each other since Cain had slapped him.

“Do you?”

Abel jiggled the baby, thinking.  “She needs to be put to bed soon, she’s been up too late already,” Abel said after a while, and left to go lay her down on Keeler and Encke’s couch in the dark living room.

Cain went to sit next to him, trying not to think about that the whole place smelled like Encke.  But then Abel tucked a blanket over him, and Abel pulled Cain down to lay next to Natasha, pillowing Cain’s head on his lap.

He stared at the far wall, trying to not look at the pictures from Keeler and Encke’s last vacation, but at least he didn’t have to look at Abel that way.  Photos of Keeler and Encke in front of a bridge and a museum, Keeler sunburnt and Encke looking as pleased as he ever did.  Wearing the kind of smile Cain had only gotten from him once, his arm over Keeler’s shoulders.  Looking fucking normal and happy because Keeler wasn’t useless trash.

“I, um—“ Cain said after a while, wishing he knew what to say to hang on to Abel.  “Didn’t mean to hit you.  I fucked up.”

Abel smoothed his hair down, sighing.  “I know.  Encke told me about your father.  I’m sorry.”

Cain’s chest tightened, not sure what to say, so he turned his face down so he could smell the baby and Abel at the same time.  Abel didn’t say anything else, so Cain didn’t, and the baby was asleep so it was better that way anyway.

They fell asleep like that, Cain curled around Natasha with her soft little body pressed to his chest, and his head on Abel’s lap.  Keeler made pancakes in the morning and Abel didn’t say anything when Cain and Encke stepped out for a cigarette together.  Cain didn’t say anything to Encke either, because Encke knew enough of his bullshit already to understand.


	4. Chapter 4

Cain avoided the cafe he’d seen his father at, going blocks out of his way around it the next couple of weeks to keep from running into him.  But it was the fucking colonies, the parts of town decent enough to take a baby out walking in not big enough to avoid him forever, and Cain went crazy trying to keep her entertained alone at the apartment for days on end.

“Lovely day for a walk,” the asshole said, coming up next to him as Cain turned towards the playground.  

He’d have to walk right past it now, and try to figure out somewhere to go besides Encke’s place, not willing to be trapped somewhere or give up a hiding place.  “Fuck off,” Cain said, the baby reaching sideways in his arms, waving her fat little hands.

“Still no manners, I see,” his father said, clucking his tongue and adjusting his suit coat.  Probably on his way back to the office from lunch with his asshole lawyer friends, the ones who’d gotten him off without so much as probation on the manslaughter charge, as if beating her blue for ten years had been exactly what she’d deserved.

“No reason to be polite to a fucking murderer,” Cain said, trying to walk faster without looking like he was.

“Things could have been so much better between us if it wasn’t for your sister, Sacha,” his father sighed.  “She was almost as bad as your mother, neither of them could ever keep their stories straight, always making themselves out to be the victim.  I suppose she never told you that wasn’t the first time your mother threw herself down the stairs.”  Just said it like Cain should have known it forever, like Natasha had lied to him all those years of hiding out at babushka’s and foster homes.  As if she’d pulled them out of there after their mother died because she was crazy and not afraid.

Cain ground his jaw, trying not to listen, trying to think of somewhere he could duck into where the asshole wouldn’t be able to follow.  Wondered if Abel would leave work early if he called, wondered if Abel would care enough to come pick them up if Cain found someplace safe to hide with the baby.  

Worried Abel would just snap at him for being selfish.  Better to get out of this himself than have Abel take his father’s side again.  Even if Encke had explained some things, Cain would never be able to explain this.  

_Why can’t you just be normal like your father?  Give her to me before you hurt her._

“Your mother never did care for children,” his father went on, like they were talking about the weather.  “She never tried with your sister, but she cut her wrists with you, after the stairs didn’t do it.  Blood everywhere, such a mess,” he said.  Again with the tongue clicking.  Such a shame, no difference between blood and spilled coffee.  

Cain’s hands tightened on the baby, trying to keep himself from stumbling with the sick knot in his stomach.

“I suppose you were too young to remember when she tried to drown the both of you in the bathtub, but I know your sister remembers it,” his father said, and Cain didn’t want to know how, she’d never mentioned it to him.  “You’d have been about the baby’s age,” the asshole said, looking over at her affectionately.  “But she never did want you in the first place.  I was only surprised it took her that long to try it.”

He turned on the bastard then, finally ready to punch the fucker in the face after all these years.

But his father was already out of reach, crossing the street and giving Cain a little wave over his shoulder as he turned the corner for his office.  Just a pleasant chat before going back to work, leaving Cain there on the sidewalk shaking alone with the baby.

He put it all out of his mind, concentrating on getting himself and the baby home to Abel, leaving the baby to play on her blanket while he smoked on the balcony.  Wondered who would tell her he’d never wanted her in the first place.  Watched her through the glass doors until Abel came home and nagged him for being irresponsible.

Abel bitched about everything while Cain made dinner in silence, complaining that the baby smelled like cigarette smoke, accusing him of smoking around her even though it had only been a couple of smokes on the way home, just to calm his nerves.  Not like he’d blown it in her face.  Just needed something else to concentrate on after everything, but Abel wouldn’t understand.

So he did the did the dishes as an excuse to not sit there getting scolded, letting Abel concentrate on whatever he was pissed about from work.  Cain gave the baby her bath even though it was Abel’s turn, kneeling next to the tub and tried to be glad for the quiet.  Concentrated on the baby’s fat little toes and getting the smoke smell out of her wispy hair.

Tried not to think about how easy it would be to hold her under the water.  Tried not to think about what it would be like to watch something that small stop moving.

Cain hauled her out of the bath without rinsing her hair and shoved her at Abel, wrapped in a wet towel and crying.  

He ignored Abel’s angry protests, brushing past him and going out to shiver on the dark balcony without his coat.  Lit one cigarette and another, trying not to think about anything.  Sat out there until Abel finally finished giving the baby her bath went to bed without saying good night.  Then he lay awake on the couch all night because he was too much of a coward to face Abel and tell him about any of it.

Encke would understand, though.  Encke knew enough of the bullshit to understand it.  He thought about calling Deimos, Deimos knew some of it, but he talked to Abel too much, and fuck knew what they talked about when Cain wasn’t there to hear.  And Deimos had enough bullshit with his own dad, he didn’t need Cain’s too.

* * *

He told Abel he was just going out for diapers the next night, waiting for Abel to get home from work to watch the baby and start dinner.  Keeler would be home, but Encke might come out for a quick beer even if he wouldn’t fuck.  Or they could have a quick beer and a quick fuck, just something to make Cain feel like shit before Abel could do it for him, so he could deserve it when Abel finally got rid of him.

Keeler answered the door, looking like a fucking mess.

“Cain.  Encke’s, um, Encke’s not here anymore,” Keeler said.  He took a shaky breath and Cain didn’t need to know him well to know he’d been crying.  He’d dried his face before answering the door, but his face was still red and puffy.  Worse than Abel when he cried.  At least Abel had some fucking dignity about it.

“Not here?  Where the fuck did he go?” Cain demanded, not interested in Keeler’s sniffling.

“He left to go stay with his aunt.  He said, um, he said you’d know how to get in touch if I needed anything,” Keeler said, looking away and pressing a hand to his mouth.  Cain grunted and started to turn away.  No time for Encke and Keeler’s bullshit when he had enough of his own with Abel.  “Cain, wait.  Encke said to make sure to give you these if you came by,” Keeler called after him, turning back into the apartment and leaving the door open.  

Cain scowled and hesitated, but followed him in.

Keeler picked up an envelope off the coffee table, holding it out to Cain in the dark living room.  He’d already taken down the vacation photos, even though the place still smelled like Encke.  “He, um, left a lot of his things,” Keeler said as Cain started to open it.  “He said to let you take whatever you wanted, he said he won’t be coming back for it.”  

Cain grunted and ignored that, pulling two photos out of the envelope.  There’d been three photos, his copies lost shuffling between navigators and assignments and never worth keeping, but here were Encke’s copies of two at least.  

The two of them on leave early in basic, Encke smiling and holding the camera out with his arm over Cain’s shoulders because it had been just the two of them with no one else with to take the picture.  That fucking waterfall Encke had dragged him to and then begged some asshole to take a picture of them in front of, Cain looking pissed because Encke had gotten him drunk the night before and then dragged him out of bed hungover and sore from being fucked.  

The third one had been of them tangled up naked in bed, Encke holding up the camera again and the frame mostly Cain’s bare ass draped over him, but that one wasn’t in the envelope and Cain didn’t want to think of what had happened to it.

Cain tucked the envelope into his jacket and started to leave, to at least give Keeler some privacy for his crying.

“Do you, um, do you have his aunt’s number?” Keeler asked just as Cain made the door, and he stopped, hating himself.  “He didn’t leave a number and he’s not answering his phone,” Keeler said quietly.  Cain closed his eyes, thinking about what Abel would say if he found out Cain had just left Keeler like this.

Cain sighed, not looking forward to a night of being ignored while Abel fussed over Keeler.  “Abel’s probably got dinner going by now, you want to come crash at our place?” Cain said, not turning around.

Keeler took a breath, and when Cain turned around to look at him, he already had his jacket in his hand.  “You wouldn’t mind?” Keeler asked breathlessly.

Fuck.

Cain scrubbed a hand through his hair and scowled, but he went back to Keeler and put an arm around his shoulders, pulling him out of there so at least he could get them back home and make Abel deal with this faster.  

Keeler leaned into him and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek.  “Thank you,” Keeler said, giving him a smile as he turned to lock the door behind them.

Cain turned away and hurried for the car, Keeler following like nothing had happened, and Cain hoped Abel would know how to deal with any of this, because he sure as fuck didn’t.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This refers back to [A Matter of Timing](http://archiveofourown.org/works/500445/chapters/878228), which happened before [Small Favors](http://archiveofourown.org/works/505684/chapters/889567).

“You want another beer, princess?” Cain yelled from the kitchen, toweling off his hands.

Never thought another person for dinner would make so many fucking dishes, but Abel had started fussing and trying to make things nice as soon as Keeler walked in the door, flustered and putting out the good plates.  No fucking reason to put out the nice dishes when it was just Cain for dinner, but at least with Keeler there as a distraction Cain didn’t have to think about the other day with his father.  Keeler was almost as bad drunk as he was sober, but at least tonight he was moping instead of flirting, and it wasn’t like he’d try to fuck Abel with Cain sitting right there.

“Uh, no, we’re fine,” Abel said, sounding strained.  Baby probably fussing, almost her bed time.  He could probably get away with finishing his beer while he put her to bed if Keeler kept Abel distracted.  Maybe even go out for a couple of smokes after and get away from their flirting.

His hands were still damp as he carried his beer back out into the living room, and he almost dropped it when he stopped in the doorway and saw them.  The baby on Abel’s lap, Abel looking pale and tense, pressed into the corner of the couch, his eyes big as he saw Cain come stand in the door.  

Keeler leaning into him with his head on Abel’s shoulder and his hand on Abel’s thigh.

Cain ground his teeth and started towards them, trying to keep his breathing even.  Keeler was just a slutty drunk, not Abel’s fault Keeler was looking for a rebound fuck.  Abel watched Cain come sit down on the other side of Keeler, Abel wound tight and his lips pressed flat and pale.  Cain just took a drink of his beer and didn’t say anything.  Not Abel’s fault.

Keeler gave him a sleepy smile.

“You’re both just so sweet,” Keeler said, putting a thin hand on Cain’s cheek as Abel’s eyes got even bigger.  Cain let him; he was just a slutty drunk, and it got his hand off Abel’s thigh.  Keeler took his hand away and leaned back into Abel.  “What do you think?  You said it would be fun last time,” Keeler murmured into Abel’s neck, and Cain could see Abel tense up even more, glancing past Keeler at him.  

“I need to put the baby to bed,” Abel said too quickly, standing up and leaving Keeler and Cain there on the couch together.  

 _Keeler’s not into that_.  Because Keeler was into that, it was just that Encke hadn’t wanted to fuck Cain again, was all.  Cain would have fucked Keeler if that’s what Encke had wanted, would have even let Keeler fuck him if Encke had told him to.  He’d been on his knees for worse because Encke told him to.

Encke just hadn’t wanted him.

Cain put his beer down on the coffee table carefully and went after Abel.

He clenched his jaw but kept his face blank, didn’t want to spook Abel, even if Abel glanced back over his shoulder and faltered mid step down the hall to the baby’s room, her dark head heavy on his shoulder.  Cain tried to take deep breaths.  

Didn’t need to wake the baby up with a fight, Keeler was just a slutty drunk.  Abel swallowed heavily and shouldered the baby’s door open, Cain right behind him.

“What the fuck did that mean?” Cain hissed as soon as the door closed.

Abel rocked with the baby’s weight, holding her close and not looking at Cain, Abel’s pale hair glowing in the nightlight.  “Nothing, he’s just drunk.  It didn’t mean anything,” Abel said guiltily, not looking at him.

“ _You said it would be fun last time_ doesn’t sound like _nothing_ , Abel,” Cain snapped, grabbing Abel by the arm, jostling the baby in her sleep.

They looked at each other then, finally really looked at each other and Cain let go before Abel had to say it.  He knew it hurt, knew before he did it that it would hurt, but the look on Abel’s face made him feel it too, and it made his chest hurt worse than when Encke had pushed him against the wall that last fight in basic that hadn’t been a fight at all.  

Cain backed off and leaned against the door.  Told himself he wouldn’t do this the way Encke had or his father had.  Told himself he would do better by Abel than that, because Abel deserved better than Cain had ever gotten.  He took deep breaths and tried to make himself believe he could do better by Abel.

“We used to have a thing, but it was a long time ago, we’re just friends now,” Abel said into the baby’s hair, not looking at him.

“When?  What do you mean _a thing_?” Cain demanded.

Abel shrugged and shook his head, blushing and still not looking at him.  “It doesn’t matter, you’ve done the same with Encke.”

Cain stared at him, glad he was already leaning against the door because his knees would have gone out from under him if he hadn’t been.  He stared at Abel, holding their baby, just saying it like it was the plain truth and he’d known forever, like Abel had always known what useless lying trash Cain was but let him stay anyway.

“Who told you that?” Cain managed finally.  He’d never thought to ask what else Encke had told Abel.

“Keeler did.  He thought I already knew.  But look, it’s fine, I know you’re friends and it was a long time ago—“

“We’re not friends.  We were never friends,” Cain snapped, cutting Abel off.  Fucking Keeler, and fuck knew how long he’d known or who else he’d told.  Cain had never thought Encke would tell anyone about it, but he’d never thought he’d have Encke’s problems sitting on his couch getting drunk on the last good bottle of wine in the house either.

 _It was basic.  Things were different_.  Different enough to let Keeler fuck who he wanted and tell him all about fucking Cain, apparently.  Different enough that Encke had kept Keeler around even though he’d been fucking Abel, different enough that he’d probably never passed Keeler around to his asshole friends.

 _Why the fuck am I bothering to do anything for a fucking whore?_  

Abel frowned as Cain slid down the door to sit on the floor, head in his hands.  Listened as Abel put the baby in her crib and didn’t understand why Abel wasn’t as angry as he should have been.

Cain startled away as Abel sat next to him, putting a warm hand on his arm.  “What’s the matter?” Abel asked quietly.

 _You could try just being honest for once in your life._  

Encke had always been right and Cain had always done what Encke told him.  So he told Abel all of it.

Almost all of it.  

Couldn’t tell him about getting passed around in basic or why Encke had decided to be done with him.  Couldn’t tell him about trying to walk down to medical to have a tumor cut out or what he’d thought about the last time he gave her a bath.  

Couldn’t tell him any of that, even if he knew Abel would throw it back at him later when he finally found out Cain was a lying whore and too dangerous to keep around the baby, because he was a fucking coward and he couldn’t face the thought of seeing the disgust on Abel’s face when Abel finally saw all of him.  

Not right then, not with Abel’s arm over his shoulders in the dim nightlight.

Abel didn’t say anything, didn’t press for anything Cain wouldn’t tell him, just sat and listened with his fingers stroking Cain’s knee, and Cain tried to tell him most of it.  The parts he thought Abel would believe, the parts he thought Abel would understand about.

They sat there listening to the baby’s breathing for a while after, until Abel pulled them up to go check on Keeler.  He was already asleep on the couch, curled on his side and drunk off his ass, so Abel got him a blanket and left him there.  Abel pulled Cain to bed and curled around him, stroking his hair and Cain was finally the first between them to fall asleep.

Cain drove Keeler home in the morning while Abel was getting ready for work, and didn’t say anything when Keeler leaned in to give him a peck on the cheek.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cain may or may not be watching Thor and the Avengers. Got the idea for Abel as vintage scifi nerd from Kurenai-tenka's [Abel's Totally Serious Tweets.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/531676/chapters/952773)

They didn’t really talk about it, no privacy to talk with Keeler getting drunk on their couch every night after work while Cain made dinner and tried to ignore all Keeler’s whining that Encke wouldn’t return his calls.  Didn’t need to talk about it, so long as Abel understood enough to know why Cain wasn’t going to go over and haul Encke out of his aunt’s place to make things better with Keeler.  As long as Abel understood enough to know why he just needed to sit alone with the baby sometimes and make sure he hadn’t broken her yet.

Keeler didn’t crash on their couch again, though, Cain always made sure to drive Keeler back to his own place every night so he could have Abel to himself in the mornings.  Didn’t care if it was selfish or if Abel bitched about it to Deimos, he was going to have Abel for a couple hours a day even if Abel was crabby and tired for it. 

“You’re gonna be late for work, princess,” Cain said, watching Abel lean an elbow on the table and rub his eyes, his eggs and coffee going cold.  The baby slept fitfully against Cain’s chest, her face hot through his shirt where she lay on his shoulder.  She’d started running a fever during the night and now Abel looked like he had one too.  Cain shifted the baby to his other arm and reached across the table to put a hand on Abel’s face.  

Too hot, almost hotter than the baby.  Abel just looked at him with puffy eyes.  Cain had made him stay in bed while he sat up with the baby during the night, but Abel looked like he hadn’t slept at all.  

“Take off your uniform, you’re staying home,” Cain said, taking Abel’s phone from the table and thumbing through it to message Keeler.  Keeler would always cover for Abel.  Cain could let them stay friends for that even if he didn’t want to think about Keeler anywhere near Abel.

Abel shook his head, though, tired and stubborn.  “I need to go in, we have a big meeting this afternoon,” he coughed.

“ _Abel_.  It’s just a meeting, it’s not like anyone’s going to get shot down if you take a sick day.  Take off your jacket, I already told Keeler you’re not going in,” Cain said, holding out the phone so Abel could see.

“Cain—“ Abel started, but stopped when he glanced down at the message Keeler had texted back:  _feel better ): mtg will be boring anyway <3_

Cain was going to fucking strangle Keeler for that heart, but at least it got Abel to shrug out of his jacket and let himself be led to the couch.  Abel sat, but let Cain push him over to lie down, and took the baby so Cain could go get him a blanket.

They spent the day like that, the baby sleeping on Cain’s lap and Abel curled next to him in a sweater and too many blankets, Cain’s fingers twisted in his hair as Abel sleepily texted Deimos.  Cain alternated between heating tea for Abel and heating bottles for the baby, both of them pink-faced and crabby until Cain took the phone away from Abel and made him take a nap.  

Abel finally slept even if the baby was fussy, and Cain put one of Abel’s vintage scifi movies on so he’d have something to do while he wiped the baby’s runny nose.  Tried to keep her quiet when her nose started to get red and raw and she fussed, not taking a bottle or able to sleep.  So he just walked her back and forth across the room, the only way to keep her quiet, and turned the movie most of the way down so it wouldn’t wake up Abel when it got to the good part with the giant robot.

Abel’s phone kept buzzing on the coffee table, though, and Cain couldn’t figure out how to fucking turn it off.  Juggled the baby to grab it and tell Keeler to fucking mind his work and stop trying to get in Abel’s pants.

It was Deimos, though, a picture of him and his dad coming up, both of them looking too thin and tired, but his father trying to force a smile for the camera.  Tough old bastard looked half dead already, and not for the first time Cain wished Deimos’ father could have had the soft office job his own asshole father had used to get away with murder.  At least then the world would make some fucking sense, if Cain’s bastard father had a wasting cancer catch up with him for every fucking awful thing he’d ever done.

 _Check up good today, hospice care coming later,_ Deimos had texted after the photo. _Thanks for sending baby pictures, dad said said she’ll be a heartbreaker when she gets older.  Tell Cain the new sweater looks good on him._

Cain frowned down at the phone, thumbing out a reply with one hand while he rubbed the baby’s back absently.  _abels sleeping_

He threw it down on the couch, pushing a pillow over it so it wouldn’t make so much noise, but it buzzed through the fabric a second later, and Abel stirred at the noise.  _Cain?  You ok?  Abel said he met your dad._

So he thumbed out another message, just to get Deimos to fucking drop it and let Abel sleep.  _fine dont want to talk about it_

_Abel was upset, said you went to Eight’s._

Cain ground his jaw, thinking about thumbing through Abel’s old messages to see what else the little bitches had said about him and so he could decide how pissed to be, but he’d promised Abel he wouldn’t after their first fight over Keeler.  So instead he brushed the baby’s soft cheek.  Abel knew to not bitch about their problems to Deimos, and Deimos knew better than to talk about basic.  _mind your own fucking business_

It was quiet for a minute, and Cain thought Deimos finally have dropped it.  Until the stupid fucking thing buzzed another message.  _Sorry._ That was all.

The phone was silent then, and Cain went through and deleted everything except Deimos’ first message.  Abel would be pissed if he found out, but he’d be more pissed if he found out Cain had told Deimos to fuck off.  Deimos had enough of his own shit to deal with, Abel didn’t need to be handing him all their problems too.  Cain kicked his feet out so he could let the baby lay against his chest with Abel curled next to him and tried to concentrate on the big blond idiot getting his ass kicked by the robot.

Abel dozed most of the afternoon as Cain made his way through all of Abel’s old movies he usually slept through, Abel only waking up to sniffle over the Shield guy finally biting it.  Cain combed his fingers through Abel’s hair until it was almost time for dinner, watching him instead of whatever was going on in the movie.  He gave Abel the baby at the end and put soup on to heat up while he stepped out to the balcony to smoke before dinner.

The doorbell rang while he was out there.  Abel got up before Cain could put out his cigarette, setting the baby down on the couch.  Cain let him get it since it was probably Keeler on his way home from work, checking to see if Abel _needed_ anything.

It wasn’t Keeler, though.  Keeler wrapped up with a bow and begging Abel to fuck him would have been better than this.

Cain’s father stood there in the door, wearing his bullshit concern and fake sympathy.  

They said something, far away through the glass, Cain’s heart pounding too hard in his ears to hear what Abel or his father said even if he’d been standing right there.  He flicked his cigarette over the balcony and held tight to the railing, sure he’d pitch over it with the sudden vertigo.

He pushed the balcony doors open and took two steps to scoop up the baby.  Stood on the other side of the room from them, holding her too tight again because she was fussing and he couldn’t make himself put her down.  Not with Abel standing between them and his father, like Abel thought he could protect anyone.

“No, they’re fine, thank you.  I don’t want you near them.  I’d appreciate it if you didn’t call again,” Abel said, his voice even, but even from across the room Cain could see his knuckles go white as he clenched a fist against the door frame.

Cain’s father finally looked past Abel at him then, looking straight through him at all the reasons his mother had tried to cut her wrists, at all the reasons Cain should never have been standing there cowering behind Abel.  “Sacha always was a convincing liar when it got him out of something,” his father sighed, looking back to Abel.  “He got it from his mother, unfortunately, and I’m sorry he’s pulled you into this misunderstanding between us.  I’m sure whatever he told you was very upsetting and sympathetic.”

It all sounded so fucking reasonable, Cain almost believed it himself.

Wished to fuck he had made it all up to make Abel keep him, just so he wouldn’t have to stand there hoping the building would fall down around him.  So he wouldn’t have to stand there with his chest tight, wondering if Abel would finally see through all his bullshit of trying to do things right.  Hoping Abel wouldn’t finally see every awful thing he’d thought about doing to the baby and every time he’d lain awake worrying about all the ways he could break her.  Everything he’d been too much of a coward to tell Abel.

Couldn’t blame Abel when he glanced over his shoulder, biting his lip.  Thinking.  Trying to look through Cain, to the bottom of him at every stupid thing he’d ever done like Encke and his father had always been able to do without trying.

Abel looked at him too long, both his father and Abel watching him too closely from the door, and Cain pressed the baby tighter against his chest.  She smelled like Abel and baby shampoo, and his heart beat too fast at the thought of one of them crossing the room to come take her from him.

Something changed in Abel’s face, his look going hard as he stopped biting his lip and set his jaw instead.  Cain panicked, taking a shaky step backwards away from them both, about to lose the only thing he’d ever tried to do right.

But Abel turned back to the door instead, blocking it, shielding Cain and the baby.  “I don’t think you know your son very well, and I don’t think you deserve to.  Don’t show up here again,” Abel said quietly, and just shut the door in the fucker’s face.

Cain stood there staring, Abel leaning on the door as he locked it.  “You believed me?” Cain asked Abel’s back shakily, not sure he wanted to hear the answer, but needing to hear it anyway.  Even if Abel hadn’t believed any of it.

He finally turned around, looking as pissed as Cain had ever seen him.  

Abel pressed his lips together pale, and Cain swallowed, trying to think if there was anywhere he could go besides Keeler’s place.  Abel would never let him take the baby with him, and any place he ended up would be no good for her anyway.  Not if he had to do the only thing he’d ever been good for and get on his knees to find a place to stay.

If he was lucky, he might be able to get pictures of her from Keeler or Deimos once in a while.  They were soft hearted like that, even if Abel was angry enough to tell them not to send him any.

Abel started coming across the room then, his face hard as Encke’s had been once and Cain closed his eyes, hunching his shoulders around the fussing baby.  Abel would never slap as hard as Encke had, but Cain didn’t want this to be the only thing the baby remembered about him.  He’d fucked up every other part of his life, and now Abel was fucking done with him just like Encke had been.

There was no slap, though, just Abel’s soft hands on his shoulders, pulling them together with the baby between them.  Cain let Abel put his arms around them.  Couldn’t have pushed him away if he’d wanted to anyway, holding up the weight of the baby and everything else.

“Of course I believed you.  Of course I did, I always will,” Abel said quietly, even though Cain didn’t deserve him.


	7. Chapter 7

Keeler was on their couch again the next night, looking worse than ever, _checking on Abel after work_ which really meant _ruining Cain’s fucking life with his bitching_.  Cain fed the baby her applesauce while Abel sat with Keeler, Abel curled over a cup of tea and Keeler over a glass of wine.

“He just, he won’t even answer my calls,” Keeler said for the sixth time that night, pouring himself more wine.  Cain glared at the bottle so he wouldn’t have to see the way Keeler glanced at him.  “He said to call if I needed anything, but I thought, maybe, if one of you called, you could talk to him?” Keeler said, looking at Abel but asking Cain.

Abel caught his eye across the table even though Cain wanted to strangle him, Keeler and Encke and the baby and all of it between them.  _Please?_ Abel mouthed silently.  Please drag himself on his belly to Encke.  Please beg Encke to give Keeler something he’d never given Cain.  Please pretend to care what Abel wanted.

So Cain did it, for the look on Abel’s face and for everything Abel wanted but Cain had never managed to give him.  But he knew how to dial a goddamn phone, so he could do that for Abel.  Cain glared at Abel as he handed him the sticky baby and left to go call the asshole.

“What you want, Cain?” Encke said on the second ring, never so much as a fucking hello.

“Pick up your goddamn phone next time Keeler calls,” Cain snapped, wanting to get this over with so he could tell Abel he’d tried and be done with it.

“When’d you start doing him any favors, Fifty?”

“Fuck you, Eight, he’s been sitting in my house every night the last couple weeks crying to Abel.  Would you just quit being an asshole and get back here?”

“It’s not that simple,” Encke sighed, and fuck if he didn’t sound as fucking tired with this shit as Cain felt.  “Tell him we’re done talking, tell him I can’t give him what he wants.”

“Who’s the fucking coward now?” Cain said as Encke hung up on him.  “Asshole.”

Keeler was alone at the table when he went back, Abel gone to put the baby to bed.  Cain sat and poured himself the last thimbleful of wine from the bottle.

“Did he say anything?” Keeler asked, chewing his lip and looking at Cain’s phone on the table.

Cain cursed under his breath and put the phone away.  “No, uh, he didn’t pick up,” Cain lied.  “I’ll try again in the morning.”

“Oh,” Keeler breathed, frowning down at the table.  Glanced up at Cain with a little smile.  “Thank you for trying.  Abel’s so lucky to have you,” he said quietly.

“You want more wine?” Cain said, getting up so he wouldn’t have to look at Keeler and wonder what lies Abel had told about him.

Abel came back and kept Keeler from saying anything else, padding down the hall from the baby’s room with one of Cain’s sweaters wrapped around him.  “Are you staying up?” Abel asked them, giving the new bottle of wine a worried look as Cain opened it.

Cain glanced at Keeler and at the clock in the kitchen, Keeler twisting his fingers in his hair and looking miserable.  “You’re not?” Cain asked Abel desperately, but knew before Abel shook his head that he’d stuck himself alone with Keeler and the open bottle now.

“Still not feeling good,” Abel said.  “You staying here tonight?” he asked Keeler, who glanced at Cain.  Who nodded, because why the fuck not, Keeler had already ruined the whole night anyway.  Abel gave Cain a quick peck on the cheek, and that made the phone call worth it, even if he had sit there with a half drunk Keeler after.

Abel went to bed and they sat there quiet for a minute before Keeler broke the silence.  “Encke said—said you met in basic?” Keeler said, fishing for something.  Cain just grunted and drank his wine too fast, not interested in talking about this.  “He always talked about when you were on leave together,” Keeler said miserably, tracing his fingers over the pattern on the tablecloth.

Cain glared at him and didn’t believe that for a fucking second, not unless Keeler meant Encke had told him about all the ways Encke had fucked him.  He poured Keeler more wine and hoped to get them both to bed sooner if he got Keeler drunk enough.

“He must have been so different when he was younger,” Keeler said, glancing at Cain and back down.  “He sounded so happy when he talked about that waterfall, but we never made it there together.”

Cain cursed under his breath again, and swore to fuck this was going to be the last fucking time he let Keeler crash on their couch.  He was so fucking sick of Keeler and how fucking in love with Encke he was, and now this, like Keeler or Encke had ever thought there had been anything between him and Cain, when all there had ever been was fucking and humiliation.

But here was Keeler looking lost and desperate, tracing out the little blue flowers on Abel’s tablecloth instead of blotchy faded ones on a dingy hotel coverlet because things had been better between Keeler and Encke than they ever could have been between Cain and Encke.

So Cain told Keeler what he wanted to hear.  Gave Keeler the good times, and kept the painful ones to himself.  Didn’t think that was lying to Keeler, since Keeler didn’t know that Encke, just the one who smiled in vacation pictures, and telling it that way to Keeler, Cain could almost pretend that was the only Encke he knew too.


	8. Chapter 8

No other fucking way to get Keeler off his fucking couch, just had to do it.  Cain made himself knock on the door of Encke’s aunt’s house late the next afternoon, after he’d driven Keeler and Abel to work and gotten the babysitter to come over.  Drove way the fuck out in the back of beyond to Encke’s aunt’s place because the fucker wouldn’t return his calls and shifted uncomfortably on the front step waiting for someone to answer the door.  Knew it was too late when he heard little voices start yelling for Aunt Morgan, so he had to just stand there and wait until a little round black woman opened the door.

“Mrs. Morgan,” Cain said, standing uncomfortably at attention, not sure what Encke had said about him after basic.  “James here?”

“Oh my lord, if it isn’t Sacha, I haven’t seen you in years.  How’ve you been, baby, James says you’re a daddy now,” Mrs. Morgan said, pulling Cain into her.  He let her, trying not to smile, no telling where Encke was and what he’d think of this.  “Come on in baby, I’ll get James, you want some sweet tea while you visit?” she said, pulling him into the house and giving him a kiss on the cheek.

She scattered children out in front of her, always too many brats in the house, and it felt like home even if he’d only stayed a couple nights on leave from basic.  Felt like home because everything worked out for Encke, no fucking problems in his life, he’d landed in a good foster home early even though Sacha and Natasha had bounced back and forth from shitty foster homes to even shittier shelters after she refused to go back to their dad’s place and babushka kicked them out, first when Natasha got knocked up and again when she got her abortion.

Cain let himself be led to the couch and sat down to watch two little girls play blocks as Mrs. Morgan went to get Encke.  They left, though, following her out to the backyard, screeching after each other.

Encke came in from the back, wearing old civilian clothes he’d had since basic and his hands still dirty from pulling up weeds.  Always found something that needed weeding out there, even when it all looked the same to Cain.  “The fuck do you want?” he asked, frowning.

Cain got up and went to the front door, not waiting to see if Encke would follow.  “You just show up and leave?” Encke called after him, following him out to the step.  “Where the fuck are you going, Fifty?”  Cain looked back at him.

“Gonna buy you a fucking beer.  You coming or not?”  Cain stuck his hands in his jacket pockets, waiting on the step while Encke went to wash his hands.

Encke finally came out and they walked down to the bar together in silence, the last time they’d done this the last beer they’d had together in basic before things went to shit.  Cain kicked pebbles off the sidewalk to keep himself from thinking about that.

They got beers, shitty and cheap, just like they used to drink in basic, not Abel’s fucking fancy shit.  The place looked the same, smelled the same, everything could have been the same except they weren’t the same.  Cain frowned down at the water rings on the bar and drank his beer, not sure how to do this if Encke wasn’t going to say anything.  

“How’s the baby?” Encke asked after their beers were half gone.

“You have to talk to Keeler,” Cain blurted.  Done.  Now Abel could stop babysitting Keeler and Encke could go over there and fix it.

Encke took a drink, quiet like when he weighed up all the stupid shit Cain had ever done, trying to pick out which one to chew his ass off for.  Took another drink, sifting through the options.  “Already talked to him,” Encke said finally.  “Done talking to him.  Nothing left to talk to him about.”

“What the fuck are you doing, Eight?  He just sits on my fucking couch and cries to Abel every day, I’m getting fucking sick of dealing with your shit.”

Encke frowned and scrubbed a hand over his hair, fresh shaved down.  “It’s too hard,” he said.  “He just wants too many things, not like—shit.”  Encke took a long drink of his beer, almost draining it.  “Forget it.  Done talking to him, nothing else to talk about.”  Encke scowled down at the bar.

“Not like what?” Cain demanded, needing to hear it.

“Nothing.  Just forget about it.”

“Fuck you, Eight, like what?  Or are you too chickenshit to say it?”

Encke rounded on him and Cain braced himself to get punched or knocked off his barstool, ready to bounce back up and finally give the fucker a piece of his mind after all these years.  “He wants a fucking baby and you never did,” Encke snapped.  “That’s what.  You fucking happy, Fifty?”

Cain did punch him in the mouth then, the first time since the first time, and it was fucking worth it for every single time Encke had ever called him Fifty.  

The bartender yelled, but Encke was already hauling Cain out by his jacket, pushing him out the door first as everyone else stared at them.  Cain tore away from him as they made the front door, stumbling as he straightened his jacket, not about to look like a fucking idiot even if Encke was going to beat the shit out of him.

As soon as they were in the parking lot, he rounded on the fucker and got the first punch in.  Landed a second one right in the fucking kidney before he realized that Encke wasn’t fighting back, wasn’t even trying to stop him, just taking it.  Only made him madder, Encke taking the punches because he was an arrogant son of a bitch and didn’t think for a second Cain could do him any hurt.  

“The fuck is your problem, Fifty?” Encke said, catching his wrist finally.  “You never wanted a goddamn thing from me, now you’re pissed Keeler wants a fucking normal life?  What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Cain tore his wrist out of Encke’s grip. “Told you to stop calling me Fifty.  I told you at the start of basic and I told you at the end of basic, but you never gave a fuck about anything I wanted, did you?”

Encke just glared at him.  “Look, Fif—Cain.  What the fuck do you want from me?  Why the fuck are you here instead of home with Abel and your baby?”

Cain would have punched the fucker in the face again, but Encke had his shoulders squared now, ready for him.  “I dragged myself out here because your _fucking_ problem has been crying on my _fucking_ couch trying to ruin my _fucking_ life,” Cain said instead.

“You’ve always been a fucking liar.  You’re not here for Keeler’s sake.”  Encke glared at him, and Cain’s breath came short in his chest.  “Just, fuck, tell him I never wanted a baby and I never should have made him think I did, you and Abel just looked so fucking happy I couldn’t tell him no to his face.  Tell him how bad I fucked you up and that I’d never be as good at it as you,” Encke said.  “Then leave me the fuck alone and have your happy fucking life with Abel.”

“I’m going to fuck it up,” Cain said shakily, needing to get it out, because Encke understood all the bullshit, “I’m going to fuck it up just like my mother did, my dad said, he said—“ 

“Your fucking father?” Encke cut him off.  “What the fuck did he say about it?”

“He said—fuck.”  Cain took a ragged breath.  “He said she tried to kill herself.  While she was pregnant.  Said the last time wasn’t the first time.”

“You believe him?” Encke asked, and Cain didn’t know how to answer that, so he just scowled at the pavement.  “You can’t let him keep fucking your life.  Call your sister and see what she says, or, fuck, talk to Abel about it and be honest with him for once in your goddamn life.”

Cain shook his head, still couldn’t look at Encke.  “Can’t tell Abel about it.”

“ _Fuck_ , Fifty, you’re his problem now, not mine, why the fuck do I need to hear about it?”

“Because he doesn’t think I’m a fuck up yet and you already know I am,” Cain snapped, the tension of not saying it to anyone too much.  “I thought about drowning the baby, my fucking father told me she tried it before she killed herself.  Abel’ll take the baby away if I tell him,” Cain finished miserably, not looking Encke in the eye now, wishing she’d gone through with it with him so he wouldn’t have to stand here exposed with Encke looking right through him all over again.  

“You going to do it?” Encke asked.

Cain took a couple of deep breaths to steady himself.  “No,” was all he managed to say, his throat too tight at the thought of hurting her, and waited for Encke to call him a fucking liar.

“Then what the fuck are you so twisted up about, Fifty?  Abel knows you better than anyone, and he knows you’re not going to hurt her.  Go back home and be happy for once.”

Cain finally looked at him then, looked for Encke to lie to him or bullshit him just to get this over with, but Encke had never lied to anyone and he didn’t look like he was starting now.  Couldn’t take Encke telling him he hadn’t fucked something up for once, so he changed the subject.  “Just, look, I’ll call Abel, Keeler’s probably over there getting wasted already,” Cain said.  “Probably trying to fuck Abel by now.  Just come over for dinner and talk to him.”

“No.”

“You have to do something about it, Eight, or he’s never fucking going to get over you.  Just go over there and tell him you never wanted him in the first place so he can get on with the rest of his fucking life.”

Encke watched him, weighing him up.  Worse than the first day of basic because now Encke knew exactly all his sore spots.  “That really what you think I should do?” Encke asked finally.

Cain glared at the fucker and dropped down to sit on the curb, digging around for his smokes.  Got one lit.  “Fuck, I don’t know, Eight, but you have to tell him something.  Never should have fucked him in the first place if you were just going to drag it out like this after.”

Encke sat down next to him and got his own cigarette lit.  Didn’t say anything for a while, both of them watching traffic go by.

“You walk out because you found out about Abel and him?” Cain asked after a while.  He’d thought Encke must have known because Encke had always known everything, but the sudden thought hit him that Encke hadn’t returned his calls because he’d thought Cain had been covering for Keeler and Abel.  “I swear to fuck I’d have stopped it if I knew about it, Abel was sneaking around on me too.”  Fuck him and his stupid mouth, but if Encke accused him of lying about this he’d punch the fucker again and they’d never end up back for dinner, Keeler left to fuck Abel with as much time as he wanted.

Encke sighed.  “Just leave them to it, it’s been going on since before the baby.  Abel can say no when he wants to.”

Cain stared at him for a second, the last thing he’d expected to hear.  “The fuck do you mean leave them to it?  You knew and you never thought to say a fucking thing about it to me?”

Encke glanced down at him then, somewhere between annoyed and pissed.  “What was I supposed to do?  Tell you so you could beat the shit out of your navigator?”  

Cain glared at him because they both knew it would have happened.  “Fuck you, Eight, you’re going to go over there and get your goddamn navigator to stop crying on my fucking couch, that’s what you’re supposed to do,” Cain said, and for once Encke didn’t call him a fucking idiot.

He dug out his phone to call Abel, just to get this fucking circus over with and get Keeler out of his house.  Hesitated for a second when the picture of Natasha came up on his call screen, but glared at Encke as Abel’s phone started to ring.  

He’d already told Abel it was done and he wouldn’t bring it up again, but this was fucking unbelievable.  He wouldn’t say anything about it, not then, not when there was a chance of making Encke go over there and deal with Keeler himself.  Cain sat there and glared at Encke as the fucker watched him, smoking.  All he had to do was not say anything about it for long enough to get Encke back to deal with Keeler, and then Cain could deal with Abel later.

Finally picked up, a second before it went to messages, Abel probably distracted with Keeler trying to get his pants off already.  “Abel.  Keeler there?  Then call him and tell him to get his pansy ass over there for dinner.”  Cain frowned at the concrete as Abel tried to ask why.  “Fuck, Abel, because I fucking said so, that’s why.  How about you just do what I fucking tell you to for once?  Yeah, fine, see you when we get there.”  He hung up the phone and stuck it in his pocket.  

Got up and went to go look for the car.  Didn’t wait to see if Encke followed, but he didn’t have to look, the tall fucker catching up to him in two steps.

“You better stop talking to him like that if you want to hang onto him, Cain.”

“Fuck off.  Like you know a goddamn thing about how to treat anyone.”

“Maybe I don’t, but I’m not the one with a picture of his baby in a bunny outfit on his phone,” Encke said, dropping his cigarette butt to the concrete as Cain got out his car keys.  “You want to stick around for another twenty years of that, you better start treating her daddy better.”

“Fuck you,” Cain mumbled, not much strength in it because Encke was right, had always been right about everything, the fucking sanctimonious bastard.  

But he leaned into it when the asshole put an arm over his shoulders as they walked to the car.  Not because it was like it had been in basic, because it was nothing like it had been in basic, Cain doing the driving now and no goddamn cartons of cigarettes in the back seat to remind him exactly what he was good for, not with Abel waiting at home for him.  Only leaned into it because Encke was taller and there was finally something right between them.


	9. Chapter 9

“I don’t know, Abel, he wouldn’t even talk about—oh.”  Keeler stopped talking as soon as they walked in the door, his eyes big as he looked past Cain at Encke.  He sat slouched over a glass of wine at the dinner table, fiddling with his hair, trying to sit up straight as Cain slung off his jacket in the entry.

Encke stood there with his hands in his pockets, frowning down at the welcome mat without moving to take off his shoes.  “Abel, open a couple of beers,” Cain called before Encke could change his mind.  Abel came out to stand in the door from the kitchen, wiping his hands off on his canvas apron Cain had told him to stop wearing in front of company.  But Encke and Keeler weren’t really company any more.

Abel ducked back into the kitchen for the beer; Cain met him halfway and took both from him, anything to speed this up and get out from between Keeler and Encke.  

“Don’t be an asshole,” Cain muttered under his breath, handing Encke a bottle and pushing him at the dinner table and Keeler.  They all still had their shoes on; Abel had to be worried if he was too distracted to tell anyone to take them off, fuck knew he hated sweeping.  Fuck knew Cain hated it too, but with the baby starting to scoot around she found every fucking thing on the floor.

“How’s your aunt?” Keeler asked softly as Encke sat and Cain retreated, pushing past Abel as he tried to peer out of the kitchen.

Cain drank most of his beer in one go, collapsing against the counter and glad to just be done with his part of it.  Abel would handle the rest or Keeler would just have to spend the rest of forever on their couch, because Cain was fucking done playing Yente.  Abel gave him a tired smile, giving the baby some dry cereal on her highchair tray before turning to stir something on the stove.  She was covered with sticky smears, her dinner applesauce and strained peas, but she smelled like Abel when Cain leaned down to put a hand on her sticky cheek and smell her hair.

Abel turned down the stove and came to lean against him at the kitchen counter, warm and solid where their shoulders pressed together.  Cain groped for his hand, Abel’s fingers warm and damp from cooking.  

“What happened to your hands?” Abel asked suddenly, hauling both Cain’s hands up in his to look at his knuckles.

Cain frowned down at his hands in Abel’s.  “Uh—nothing.”

“Did you _punch_ him?”

“No?  Yes?  Maybe?” Cain tried, groping around for the right answer.  Hadn’t realized how much his hands hurt until Abel took them in his.

Abel glanced out the door, where Keeler and Encke were sitting at the table together, not quite looking at each other.  

The baby knocked cereal off her highchair and laughed.  Abel let go of Cain’s hands with a little smile, crouching to pick it up.  Frowned up at the baby when he got more cereal spilled in his hair.  Frowned up at Cain when Cain pushed the rest of the cereal over on his hair too.

“Well, at least you’re still friends,” Abel sighed, sweeping up the sticky cereal into his hands.  Cain looked back out at Keeler and Encke then, the ache in his hands coming back.  Abel stood up then, giving Cain a quick kiss on the cheek with his hands full of damp cereal.  “Thank you for talking to him anyway.  It means a lot to Keeler.”  Cain scowled at that but didn’t say anything as Abel brushed the cereal away into the trash and washed his hands.

Abel started pouring drinks, but Cain caught him by the waist and pulled them together, leaning on the kitchen counter.  Kissed until the baby pushed her sippy cup over onto the floor.  They stood there and let the baby bang her plastic spoon against the highchair tray for a minute as Cain leaned his head on Abel’s shoulder.  

Decided he’d finally tell Abel all of it, as soon as Keeler and Encke were gone.  Just not right then, not when things finally felt safe.


End file.
